The Scenic Beauty of Europe

Think of the perfect poem to write

Where epiphany and brilliance rarely unite

Where splendor starts at the hands of Big Ben

And stretches all the way to the banks of the Seine

Where one sits and thinks for hours on end

About that which most only wish They could pen

The spector of the Eiffel Tower

Brightened by the Midnight hour

Delicate sleep sires euphoric dreams

Of the ebullience of a golden stream

The Arc de Triomphe with a rainbow above 

Encapsulates what I'm thinking of

Snow covered lilles encased in frost

That embrace the luxury of being embossed

With the melancholy essence of memories lost

Having incurred and survived it's wrath

Seeking refuge in a storm's aftermath

Marigolds and primrose interperse to create

A feeling of royalty one can't abdicate

A fantasy world where one sleeps with despair

Only to wake up from the night that They shared

And realize the dreams to which They adhered

Had become a most unwelcome nightmare

Now We finally return to the Seine

To bring this poem to a merciful end

And sincerely hope that We meet again

Perhaps,next time,on the banks of the Thames